The Green Bough

sed to be between thirty and thirty-three. No one knew. Her sis

arance amidst the black. They were not even for concealment yet. It was as though they tried to hide themselves from the swift searching of her eyes. But she

romise of the untold joys and ecstasies of a woman's heart. She had not laid Hope aside, but frettingly and constant

dge of its presence. Then, when she was beating out her fancies in those uncomely words of almost childish verse,

osed, was the coming

stiny which for thirty years and more had lingered on its

ng winter months when the Bridnorth stream was languid and shallow in its flow, she became listless when

n, revived courage in her. And all through the Spring and Summer season, she fought that fatigue a

the Royal George and trod her pulse to acceleration, as the urgent wonder of what might happen in the weeks to come; of what might happen to her in the very core of her being. He was no more than a medium, an instrument t

ons of fear and wonder, yet knowing all the time that before these emotions could happen to her, she must

ntance had soon been made. None of them were slow to realize the interest he had taken in Fanny. Before he left they twice had walked over the moors to where on

He had taken Fanny in his arms and he had kissed her. For many months she had felt those kisses, not in the touch of his lips so much as in waves

s' time or little more, she read of his marriage in the London papers and tha

herself; far less spoken of it to others. But while he had held her in his arms, she had known even then. She had felt her body th

ant had not wakened in him as he held her. However passionate his kisses in their st

and the fatigue of that waiting

ars and sails all rent. Yet with every coming, her heart lifted, and with every new arrival, st

y was thirty-three!" Hannah onc

a week or two,

rect them silently to Fanny sitting there. There was no need to say--"I told you so." Jane could convey all and more